Faith and Trust
by HELLO I'M
Summary: ...And maybe a little bit a Pixie dust. The brothers are on a normal Salt'n'Burn when things get weird when Dean is suddenly unable to see or hear Sam. The brothers have to figure out who's doing this and why and try to find a way to reverse it along the way. Too bad things are never that simple.
1. Chapter 1

**Timeline: Season six, after the re-souling. **  
**Pairings: None.**

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

"C'mon, Sam, can't you just be glad? We finally get a good and easy Hunt and you wanna bitch about it, seriously?" Dean groaned, twisting the cap on his beer and taking a sip.

Sam threw his brother, what Dean had dubbed, the _bitch-face_, "Look, all I'm saying is when has anything _ever_ been "good and easy"?"

"Sam." His brother whined, dragging out his name, "We burned the bones, ganked the spook, hell, we even got free-friggin'-pie outta the deal! Why jinx it?" At the sight of his younger brother's pathetically deadly puppy-dog eyes, he sighed, "Fine. If it makes you feel better, we'll stay until tomorrow afternoon, alright? Now, if it's alright with you, I'm going to take a shower before I grow boobs and start talking about my feelings."

"Dean," Sam called, halting his brother, "Thanks." He smiled.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. I'm awesome." He grumbled, but that didn't stop him from throwing a small smile back. Dean had missed his brother. A lot. He'd lost Sam for a whole year and when they'd finally been reunited it was like some cosmic joke. Sure, he'd had Sam's _body_ back but what made Sam, _Sam_ was trapped in Hell, being tortured by an angel having a temper tantrum. The soulless him had paraded around, masquerading as his brother, like some messed up puppet. Sure, he looked like Sam and sometimes even talked like Sam, but it wasn't Sam. Now that Sam was back, re-souled and ready to roll, Dean was the happiest he's been in...well, years. They could finally get back to being brothers once more.

While Dean turned hot water on, he thought about what Sam had said. He frowned and sighed, they were so jinxed.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

Sam smiled victoriously, puppy-dog eyes, worked every time.

With his brother safely hidden away, Sam was free to go over their research one last time without Dean interrupting or mercilessly teasing him about being a nerd. He just wanted to make sure they hadn't missed anything. It wasn't his fault if he preferred thoroughness. After all, it wouldn't be the first time they'd thought a Hunt was over when really it only been beginning. There was no excuse for sloppy work, and despite what Dean had said, Sam was sure his brother was just as suspicious as he was, otherwise he'd never have agreed to staying one more night. It wasn't like their track record was the greatest when it came to "good and easy", nothing was ever easy when the Winchesters were involved. Damn Winchester luck.

He picked up one of the files, shaking the thoughts away, deciding he'd better get started _before_ Dean got out of the shower, not after, he took a seat and carefully double checked their work.

Three minutes in and suddenly his hands and feet started tingling, curious, he transferred his attention from his notes to his palms. He can't say he was expecting them to be faintly glowing. He gasped, standing up, knocking his chair over, and sending his papers flying everywhere.

The glow, it was _moving_. It spread up his arms and legs, engulfing his whole body, he figured now would be a good time to call for Dean. Just as he opened his mouth to shout for his big brother, the glow was gone.

"What the hell?" He wondered, confused, searching his hands and arms and wondering if he'd briefly gone crazy and imagined the whole thing.

The bathroom door swung open and his brother stormed out in a cloud of steam, "Hey Sam, did you take my-" He stopped abruptly, eyes landing on the mess Sam had made in his short frenzy.

"Uh, Dean? Yeah, sorry about that, but the weirdest thing just happened... you're not going to bitch me out about a couple'a fallen papers, are you? 'Cause, I gotta tell ya' man, that sounds more like me than you." He joked, chuckling a little. But his brother didn't seem to hear a word he said, wouldn't even look at him, in fact.

Dean frowned, "God damn it, Sam!" He growled, roughly snatching his phone from his bed, "Can't leave you alone for five fucking minutes without _something_ happening."

"W-what?" Sam thought it was a bit of an over-reaction to such a small mess, especially when Dean had always made bigger (and often times grosser) messes than Sam.

It seemed like his brother wasn't even listening to him, though. A sudden sinking feeling had him clenching in fear, "D-Dean? Dean, hey..." But Dean wasn't _listening_, wasn't _seeing_! Oh no...

"Better be out getting me pie, or I'm going to be pissed." His brother grumbled and Sam knew right away he was hiding his worry and Holy shit if his brother was worried about him even though he was right here, than maybe he wasn't there at all, but he was fine and Dean should know that because he was _right here_!

"Dean!" He shouted desperately, "Dean, this better not be some kind of joke, because it isn't funny! _Dean_!"

Oh God, oh no. Shit. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! "Dean, please!" He begged, panic setting in. His brother couldn't hear him, couldn't see him!

"Damn it!" His brother roared, tossing his phone back on the bed. He growled, picking the phone back up.

He was dead. He was ghost. He'd _died_ and Dean was going to have to burn his body. His brother was going to have to watch him die _again_ and this time as a ghost. The thought made Sam choke. Dean was going to be _devastated_.

"No." He gasped. How could he be dead? Wouldn't he remember something? No, he answered himself, remembering all of the cases they'd worked where the ghosts didn't always know they were dead, much less how they'd died. "No." He denied, realizing that denial was one of the five stages of grief and quickly wondered if he was in greif about his own death.

So lost in thought, jumped when a vibration buzzed through his jean pocket. Huh, ghost could have phones? He wondered as he placed the device to his ear, " 'Lo?"

"Sam?"

His head tilted in confusion, "Bobby?" He was about 65% sure he wasn't dead. He'd never, in all his years of Hunting, heard of a ghost answering phone calls. Sure, they could leave EVP, but directly answer and interact with their phone? No.

"Where the hell are ya', boy?! You almost gave yer damn brother a heart attack!" And Sam had to actually pull the phone away so as to not go deaf by the elder man. Okay, make that 100% sure. Could dead people even go deaf?

"Um...Bobby?" His voice, it sounded so far away.

"What?" Apparently Bobby must've picked up on something in Sam's voice, because the growl had changed tones to one of more of a gruff concern.

"I'm looking at Dean right now."

"Great. Maybe he can knock some sense into ya."

Before the older man could hang up, Sam quickly continued, "No, Bobby. I don't think- I don't think he can see me."

That got the other man's attention pretty quick, "Waddya mean he can't see ya?"

"Or hear me."

"What the hell have you idjits done now?"

Sam was so relieved, he _wasn't_ dead after all! In fact, he felt so relieved he was starting to get light-headed, "I'm not dead." He mumbled before falling to the ground as the world melted away.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

Well, Dean _had_ been enjoying his day -the ghost was gone, the case was closed, they were going to stay one more night out of paranoia- until he got out of the shower.

He was in the middle of asking Sam if he'd taken his razor when he noticed a serious lack of _Sam_ in the room. His senses went on high alert and he tried to remember if he'd heard anything unusual when he'd been in the shower. Nothing came to mind, but that didn't mean anything. At the same time, his eyes narrowed and landed on a fallen chair and scattered papers. He knew it wasn't like Sam to knock over chairs, or throw around their hard-earned paperwork.

Oh fuck. Sam was _gone_ and not by choice from the looks of it. "God damn it, Sam!" He snarled, snatching his phone and hoping that his brother had simply left in a hurry for reasons only known to him, "Can't leave you alone for five fucking minutes without _something_ happening." Because something _always_ happened because they were Winchesters and God damn it! He should have known things wouldn't be easy. He cursed himself for his own stupidity and he was about to curse Sam, but decided he'd wait until the kid was safely back under Dean's watchful eye to curse him for jinxing them. "Better be out getting me pie, or I'm going to be pissed." He muttered, instinctively trying to lighten up the mood even if there was no one to lighten it up for.

He grabbed his phone called Sam's number listening to it ring, and ring, and ring, and ring, and than "This is Sam, leave a message"

"Damn it!" He cursed, probably louder than necessary, but he was pissed and worried so sue him for being loud. God, how did his brother _always_ find a way to make simple things so fucking difficult?!

He threw his phone back onto his bed, before realizing that, hey, maybe his brother had called Bobby. He quickly dialed the surrogate father's number. It answered and Dean quickly filled the man in with a few simple words, "Bobby? It's Dean, have you heard from Sam?"

"No." He answered slowly, cautiously, "Why?"

"Because he's not here!" Dean snapped, unable to hide his increasingly growing fear. "I tried calling him and he didn't pick up and it looks like someone might have taken him, okay?"

"Alright, boy, calm down. I'll see what I can do. Just hang tight, ya hear? Idjit."

After putting on a shirt and pants, figuring it'd be easier to find Sam fully clothed, he paced the room, muttering curses under his breath and so not counting the seconds as they passed him bye. He mentally went through a list of everything that would want to hurt him or Sam, going through their case, checking off monsters, and thinking which demons were out for their heads this time.

It couldn't be a demon attack, no sulfur. He was pretty sure it didn't have anything to do with the case, but deciding to not take any chances, he started picking up the papers. He was in the middle piling them up when his cell phone went off.

"Anything?" He asked, getting right down to business.

On the other end, Bobby sighed, "Well Dean, I'm not sure what you idjits have gotten into now, but Sam's just fine."

"What? Seriously? Where the hell is he? I swear to God, I'm going to kick his ass into next week!" What the hell had his brother been thinking?! Running off like that with no note and looking like someone had God damned kidnapped him!

"Well, that's just it. See, I called Sam and he told me he was lookin' right at'chya. Said you couldn't hear or see him. So who the hell did you idjits piss off this time?"

Dean ran his hand through his hair and over his face, "I dunno! We're not exactly keeping track of every fugly we've messed with. Hell, we manage to piss people of by just being there!" He paused, taking a deep breath, "But he was okay, right Bobby? I mean other than the obvious, he wasn't hurt or anything, right?"

"He was fine. A little overwhelmed...I think he passed out. But he's fine now, awake and coherent. Ya' need me to come down there?"

_Yes_ he wanted to say, to scream, because even for them, this was _not normal_! He sighed, "No, no. We need someone standing on the Eve front in case something new comes up. We'll just- we'll come to you."

"Alright. You damn idjits'll be the end of me."

"Alright, thanks Bobby."

He pocketed his phone, much calmer now than he was 20 seconds ago. Now that he knew Sam was safe and moping around here somewhere, he could finally breathe easily. God damn kid, nearly gave him a heart attack.

He clapped his hand together, looking around the room, he couldn't see Sam anywhere but that didn't mean he wasn't there. "Okay, Sam, uh, tap once for 'yes' and twice for 'no'. You alive?"

There was a small pause and Dean could already imagine the bitch-face Sam was throwing him. Then there was a single tap on the wall.

"Awesome. So you can hear me?"

_Tap_.

"Great. Okay, don't worry Sam, we're gunna get this figured out. So, let's think...who would have this kind of power?"

The room became silent, each brother thinking what creature could do this and why.

Dean grabbed his, now warm, beer from the nightstand, taking a nice, long gulp, "It's gunna be a long night."

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

**OKAY! So here's chapter one! I haven't done a chapter fic in a VERY LONG time, so I'm a little nervous. **

**Please review and tell me what you think so far. Anything mis-spelled? I'm hoping the characters aren't horribly OOC, so if they are please don't allow me to embarass myself further and tell me so I can try to do better. I've been working on my pacing, but if it still seems a bit fast let me know, it's propbably what I suck at the most, but practise makes perfect! **


	2. Chapter 2

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

"So we don't know how long this is going to last, right? I figure, maybe we should try to figure just what this..._thing_ is." Dean couldn't say that talking to his invisible little brother wasn't the stranget thing he'd ever done. "We know I can't hear you. Can't see you. But you're solid and Bobby heard you on the phone."

"Corporeal." Sam muttered, "It's called corporeal." Of course his brother didn't hear him.

Dean snapped his fingers, "Maybe that's it! Maybe I have to call you? Okay, I'm going to call you and this time pick up."

Dean waited, phone to his ear, listening to that persistent ringing. "Come on, Sam. Any day, dude."

Sam frowned, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He had his own phone out and Dean's name had yet to pop up.

It wasn't long before Dean got Sam's voicemail, he grunted in frustration, putting away his phone. "So we know I can't call you. I'm not talkin' to myself here, am I? You're still here, right Sam?"

_Tap_

"So _I_ can't call you, but everyone else can? Great." He scowled, "Does that mean other people can see you? You know how we could find out, if you went to the store and got me some pie."

Sam rolled his eyes, _nice try, Dean_. "I'm not getting you pie."

As if his brother could sense what he'd said, Dean smirked, "I'm going to pretend whatever you just said was actually an okay. Okay?"

"Dean, can you be serious for five minutes? This sucks, we need to figure out how to reverse it."

Dean could imagine Sam saying something along the lines of: _Stop your shenanigans, Dean_ or _forget about the pie, Dean_, so he went with a simple, "Yeah, yeah. Don't get your panties in a twist. Just go outside, ask someone for change, and come back. With that haircut, nobody'll be able to tell you're not a hobo." He laughed, knowing Sam was sending him the bitchiest of all bitch-faces.

"Very mature, Dean." Although, he had to admit, Dean had point. Did whatever this was only effect Dean or was it everybody? And, as a side-thought, he wondered if he was corporeal to Dean or if he'd ghost right through him. Grinning slightly, he reached over and whacked his brother over the head, laughing when Dean let loose an undignified yelp.

"Nice, Sam. Real mature." Dean scowled. "Come here, we'll see if that works both ways."

To be fair, they really did have to find out if Dean was able to touch Sam. If things were to turn sour -which they often did- and Sam ended up severely injured, than it probably wouldn't be the best time to figure out if Dean was able to touch him or not.

He tapped Dean's shoulder, letting his brother know where he was; it was only fair.

Dean, cautiously, reached a hand out, fingers brushing Sam's unseen shoulder and gave a small push.

"Okay. So that works." He paused, "By the way, Sam?" He hit Sam on the shoulder, "Don't hit me any more. Now, go out and mingle." He grinned, opening the door, chuckling when it slammed shut behind Sam. Or what he assumed was behind Sam. Just to be sure, he waved his hands in front of his body; hitting nothing solid, he counted this as a victory.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

Sam's little experiment had gone better than expected. He'd went out, asked someone the time, then left. The man he'd asked was friendly enough, answering his question with a smile on his face and a "Good day" to his retreating back. And just to be sure it wasn't a fluke, he asked one more person, the woman was a little less friendly, but she'd been able to see and hear him and that was what was important.

Good news, he wasn't totally invisible.  
Bad news, he was only invisible to Dean. Naturally.

Basically anyone who wasn't Dean would be able to know when he was around.

He'd repeated his new find to said brother who looked just about as happy as he was about the new discovery.

"I guess now we research." He sighed.

Of course, it didn't take long until Dean had had enough and started making his idea of humorous remarks. "You know, I could get used to this." Dean smirked, trying to lighten the mood, "Ya' hear that, Sammy? That's the sound of no little brothers bitching at me."

Sam, unseen and unheard, tossed a pillow at his brother's head, smiling triumphantly when it hit him with a dull 'thud'.

"Hey!" Dean protested. "Damn kid." He mumbled, "Hey. Do you think if I get you a bell I'd be able to hear you coming? You know what, I think I should get you a bell anyway, it'd be easier to keep track of you. People will be like: "Hey! Ya' hear that? Sounds like a cat walkin' down the street." "Oh no, sir. That's just ma' brother! See I had to get him a bell 'cause he's always runnin' off or getting taken by the baddies." Yeah, that could work." He finalized with a nod.

"A cat, Dean? Seriously?" Sam said with an eye-roll.

"Well, I'm not hearing any protest. That mean you agree with me?"

Sam banged twice on the wall and then twice more, trying to tell his brother to fuck off.

"Sorry, Sammy, I have no idea what that means." He laughed and ducked as another pillow flew his way.

"Damn jerk." Sam muttered.

"Hey Sam!" Dean called, shuffling through his duffle bag.

"Hmm?" Sam asked, absentmindedly.

"Try this." He said, throwing a pencil and notepad on the bed he guessed Sam was sitting in.

"Huh. That's...actually a pretty good idea. Nice job, Dean."

Dean watched slightly disconcerted as the paper and pencil rose as if on their own accord.

**Hello?**

Dean snorted. "Your first words and you choose _hello_? Jeez, Sam."

**Shut up**

"Oh, you sure told me."

**You're a dick**

"Sorry Sam, can't seem to read that last word there. You have awful penmanship, by the way."

Sam smacked him with his notepad.

"Alright!" Dean exclaimed, stopping any further assault, "So...what do we have so far?"

Silence. Of course.

"Right. Nothing."

**Demon?**

"Nah, no sulfur. No deals around here either, not even a crossroads."

**Angels?**

"Maybe, but why? How would this be productive in any way? And you think Cas would've said something."

Sam frowned, none of this was making any sense!

"Maybe a witch?"

Sam shook his head, forgetting for a moment about his invisibility, **Maybe, but I don't think they'd have enough mojo**

"Okay. So basically we've still got nothing. Great."

**We'll figure it out** Sam comforted- or, at least tried to. It was pretty hard when Dean was pretty much blind and deaf to everything Sam-related.

**Cursed object?**

"Nobody's dying, so that can't be it." Dean shot down, "Nobody is dying, right?"

**Nobody's dying, Dean. **He rolled his eyes. He felt fine. A little annoyed maybe, but physically he was fine. There was just something about this -whatever the hell _this_ was- that was irritating him. Like when he has a thought on the tip of his tongue. _What uses magic, but isn't a witch?_ It was like a riddle or some sort of trick, a supernatural prank of sorts. Nobody was dying, he'd have felt some sort of effect by now, so it wasn't meant to harm. More like a mild inconvenience. A trick, but without a Trickster. Not that they'd had a ton of encounters with Tricksters, more like they'd encountered the same Trickster a ton of times. So what the hell?

Dean stood up so fast, Sam ended up jumping a few inches. "I think I've got an idea!" He exclaimed. "Okay, wait here, I'm going to go get some stuff."

"Wait, Dean-" The door slammed shut, "Okay. In guess I'll just be here...guessing what your brilliant plan is." He pouted, though he would be denying that if anyone decided to bring it up.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

Dean was less than thrilled about his latest idea. At first, he'd immediately rejected any and all thoughts of this being their mystery creature, but as he thought more about it, the more likely it became. It's not like he wanted to mess with these guys again, their first encounter with 'em wasn't exactly their greatest work.

He bought some cream from the nearby grocery store, wondering how he was going to explain this to his brother.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

"So, we just sit here and wait?" Sam asked, despite his recent disability. It was kind of ridiculous, they were hiding behind the Impala staring intensely at two cups of cream cleverly placed on their motel doorstep. He sighed, pulling out his paper, **What are we waiting for again? **He showed his brother. It was like being mute, except worse.

"I already told you Sam, we're waiting for the fairies." Dean huffed in annoyance and Sam was almost positive his brother hit his head on something hard on his way out. Fairies, seriously?

Thinking he'd be funny, Sam wrote, **Exactly how much glitter glue were you sniffing today?** he expected his brother to tell him to _shut up_ or take away his notepad, what he didn't expect, however, was for him to flinch as if he'd been slapped. What the hell was that about?

"Look, just trust me on this, Sam. Okay?" His brother pleaded. Now Sam felt bad, he trusted his brother with his _life_, the last thing he wanted was for Dean to think he didn't trust him.

**I trust you Dean. **he wrote, wishing he could actually say it out loud. He wrote it down, sure, but it was practically stone cold. Not emotion, no devotion, he might as well have not said it at all.

Nevertheless, Dean tossed Sam a quick, grateful smile. He might not have been able to see or hear his brother, but damned if he couldn't understand exactly what the kid meant. Hell, he could almost see those wide eyes, filled with trust and a seriousness that wouldn't allow him to lie or re-think that trust. It was the look that said _I'm in this with you, Dean. No matter what._. He missed that look, he hadn't seen it for a while. There hadn't been much time to patch things up between them, what with the whole Ruby-fiasco, raising Lucifer, locking him back in his box, and his brother returning from Hell a soulless robot. But that was behind them, this time would be different. They've learned their lesson.

There was a tapping on his shoulder and he turned towards Sam's general direction. The fact that the spot appeared empty threw him off for a quick second before he realized that _oh yeah_ Sam was invisible and that Sam probably saw something happening with the cream.

Sam wasn't wrong, (surprise, surprise) there were a couple of humanoid figures sipping away at the cream, unaware of the two hidden Hunters.

They acted as one, and in seconds the brothers had circled and trapped them with iron chains, the little bastards. Man, it felt good to be back in the game.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

There were three of them. Sam wasn't sure how he was expecting them to look, but like a couple of 22 year-olds sure wasn't it.

There were two guys and a girl. The tallest of the group, one of the boys, dark skinned and well muscled, looked about 6'1 and none too pleased at being caught. The other boy, blonde haired, blue eyed, and baby-faced, looked ready to weep any second now. The girl, on the other hand, lightly tanned with a head of bushy, untamed brown hair, looked ready to burst someone into flames with the glare she was giving. Well good, it was their fault everyone was here in the first place.

Shocked at first, but it didn't take long to come to terms with the existence of fairies. Fairy lore wasn't exactly a rarity and with the stuff they'd already seen, he figured why the hell not? Although, all of this seemed to give him a sort of dé·jà vu feeling. It was really weird, but he'd have to think about it later, when he was less invisible to his brother.

Truth was, they didn't look like a couple of bad-ass fairies, they looked like a couple of stupid kids in way over their heads.

Dean instantly took the leader role, staying strong and steady, "Here's how this is going to play out, my brother and I are going to take you three inside, nice and easy, okay? We don't wanna hurt anyone, but I will stab you if you try to run away. Understand?" The tall boy jerked his head once in a nod. Blondie, though, he nodded three or four times, making it very clear he had no wish to be stabbed. The girl just continued to glare.

"Alright. Sam." Sam got behind the girl, putting a silver knife to her throat while Dean took on Mr. Tall and Pissy.

Sam wanted to say something, to try to keep everyone calm, show them they really meant no harm, but what do you say to the bitch that separated you from your brother? Not much.

They made it into the room without a single incident, him and Dean trapping them once more in a circle of iron.

"You caught us, so what now?" The female asked, her voice dripping with hate.

"Did you do this?" Sam asked, smacking his brother when he tried interrupting him.

"Do what?" She asked in sarcastic innocence, her lips twitching.

Now Sam was starting to get pissed off, "Did you make it so Dean couldn't see me?"

"Oh. That. Yeah, we did that." She said, a smug grin on her face.

"Why?" He demanded. He glanced back at Dean, his brother looking like he was keeping up pretty well for a guy only hearing half the story.

The grin fell from her face, "Why? Hear that guys, he wants to know _why_." The tall boy sneered, taking turns glaring at each brother. His glare was nothing compared to the one the girl was giving as she moved as close to the Winchester's as she could get without touching the iron, "I will tell you why, Winchester." She spat, "Maybe it has something to do with you two MORONS bringing _Lucifer_ to Earth!"

That's when Dean started to protest, "Listen lady, that ship has already sailed. Lucifer's back in his box, apocalypse averted."

She turned her attention to him, "And I suppose that makes up for all the damage he's done, doesn't it _Righteous Man_? Oh, yes. I know all about you. The Righteous Man who's not even Righteous. A true Righteous Man would not have broken the first seal! Don't looked so shocked, we Fae folk have our own ways of getting around. Back doors and whatnot."

_Backdoors_? Why does that sound so familiar?!

"Why does that even matter to you? Aren't you guys from a different realm or something?" Dean asked, trying not show just how much her accusations were pissing him off. She had no right talking like that.

"Is that what you think?!" She shrieked, her face reddening and Sam swore he saw her eyes start to water. He couldn't help but notice her two comrades were looking distinctly uncomfortable with the situation, "Heaven and Hell are of different realms and _both_ were in ruins because of you two! What makes my land any different? Do you even _know_ the kind of heavy magic Lucifer was preforming? How many innocents were killed because he needed the magic? Or how many of my kind were brutally _murdered_ because of the demon Lilith? My _grandmother_ died because of you two! She is dead because you are a couple of incompetent fools, unfit to preform even the simplist tasks! My family has been disgraced, we've been kicked out of our home, and my Grandmother, I can never see her again. Why should you be able to see your family when most of mine have died off?" She collapsed to floor, her sobs echoing through the room.

The tall boy was at her side, hiding her from the brothers. Blondie approached them cautiously, "Please, _please_ let them go. I'll tell you whatever else it is you want. But my friends really need to go home now." He said softly, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Dean nodded, holding a knife to the kid (just in case) while Sam removed the chain. The tall boy snapped his fingers and than there was one.

"It's not been easy since Lucifer was risen. His decent has not brought the same relief it has brought you. I hear Heaven is in even greater ruins." The boy explained.

"Yeah, tough times all around. Can ya' fix Sam or not?"

Sam was appalled at his brother's crass attitude, "Look, we're sorry about what happened to your friend-"

"All of us." The boy interrupted quickly, blushing furiously and mumbling shyly, "It's happened to all of us."

"And we're sorry about that, really, we are. But is there any way you could...take this back? Undo it or something?" He asked, looking as pitiful as possible.

The boy sighed, "I wish there was, but unfortunately I do not have the power, nor the ritual required for uplifting this particular spell."

"You sure it's not less of a "can't" and more of a "won't"?" Dean snarked.

"I cannot. But I do know of someone who can." The boy was nonplussed by Dean's rudeness.

"That's great. So you'll help us?" Sam asked, still trying to look sad and like -as Dean had called it- like a kicked puppy.

"I will give you a name and the place where you can find him. But that is all. Felinda and Jaques will not be pleased, however they've pulled their prank, now it is time to move on."

"Thank you. It means a lot to us. And for it's worth, we really are sorry for your losses. We know what it's like to loose your loved ones."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about my, or my friend's, losses."

"Of course." He said softly, ingoring the stab of guilt shooting through him.

"His name is Belale. He is in the state you call Maine, that is all I know. And for what it is worth, my friends did not mean you any harm. In fact, they could have done much worse. They are just upset, one day they will be fine again." And with a snap of his fingers he was gone.

"So...Maine, huh?" Dean said, trying to wrap his head over what just happened.

Sam nodded, also wondering what the hell just went down, "Yeah. Maine."

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

**End chapter Two.**

**I forgot before, but here: Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. **

**Also, I don't have anything against hobos. **

**Questions? Comments? Concerns?**

**Hope the extra characters didn't bother you too much. They're only a one time thing as far as I'm concerned. **

**I don't know if anyone noticed, but this is a pretty long chapter. I thought I was moving too fast and ended up adding like an extra 2,000 words. Does it seem like I'm moving too fast? Not fast enough? I'd LOVE to hear some feedback! I'm not really used to writing something that's not slightly disturbing, so I'm a little new to this.**

**REVIEW please. I love to know what I'm doing right and what I have to work on.**

**-HELLO I'M-**


	3. Chapter 3

They hadn't been driving long when Dean suddenly spilled, "It not your fault, you know."

Shocked, Sam had sputtered, "What?"

"I know you're moping over there, Sam. About what that chick said. You know it's not your fault, right?"

Sam closed his eyes, "Dean, please don't do this." He begged, because yeah, he had been feeling because, yea, it _was_ his fault. He been stupid and stubborn and had nearly killed his own brother because Dean had stood in his way. How could Dean even stand to _look_ at him after what he'd done? And how many innocent people had Sam been responsible of killing when he'd set Lucifer out on the world?

"Look, Sam, we were both being manipulated by Heaven _and_ Hell. We're lucky we were even able to lock Lucifer back up. We did the best we could with those bastards breathing down our necks and messing with our heads. It's not your fault, okay Sam?" He stated, his voice pleading, begging him to understand and for a second, Sam's heart ached with the love he felt for his brother right than. His brother who could look past every horrible, evil thing he'd ever done and still want to love him and comfort him. That was Dean, that was his big brother.

He felt himself choke, "I- thank you, Dean." He whispered, wishing for the umpteenth time that his brother could hear him. He settled for brushing his hand down Dean's shoulder. "You know it's not your fault either, right Dean? Of course you don't. You're always blaming yourself, even when there was nothing you could have done differently or even when you didn't know what was going to happen, because that's just the kind of man you are." He sighed sorrowfully, when he got his voice back he was going to tell Dean the same thing.

For a long time neither of them said a thing and it was a little awkward. What do you talk about when one of you is invisible?

It was obvious when the silence started annoying the elder Winchester when he suddenly blurted out, "You don't think, maybe, we jumped the gun on this a little too quick? For all we know he could've been lying." Despite his doubts, Dean did not stop the car or hold off their latest destination, he knew -and Sam knew- that, as far-fetched as this sounded, this was their _only_ lead and maybe their only chance at fixing this friggin' curse or spell or whatever the hell it was.

"I get where you're coming from, but let's face it Dean, we've done a lot more on a lot less." His brother couldn't hear him, but that didn't mean Sam didn't want to be part of the conversation. "Hey, how did you know it was fairies anyway? How often do you fight fairies?" He wondered. His brother -unsurprisingly- didn't answer him. It was just so strange, where had Dean learned that? Even he didn't know fairies liked cream -completely disregarding the fact he hadn't even known fairies existed until a few hours ago.

"Call Bobby, tell him we're going to be a while. And ask him if he knows anything about this Belale guy." Ordered Dean.

Sam frowned at his brother's bossiness, but complied none the less. It wasn't a bad idea, seeing if anybody has ever heard of any sort of Belale hanging around Maine. Not a bad idea to catch Bobby up with what they've found out and what was going on, either.

Dean found the silence a little bit on the eerie side. The Impala hadn't been this quite since Sam threw himself into Hell. He remembered talking with Cas, pissed at God, angels, himself, and everything in between, then nothing. Or, not much. It was blurry, like one long, pained filled, grief filled, hate filled nightmare that just went on and on and it never got easier. He was just trudging through his pathetic life, trying to keep himself alive for Sam, because he'd made a promise, he'd given his word to his brother that he would stay safe and sane with Lisa. She was good to him, one of the few people who take in a potentially crazy-with-grief Hunter and actually care. He'd adored Lisa and Ben, but Sam was his brother. And sure, maybe their relationship was a bit unhealthy and codependent, but it worked for them and it was theirs.

Dean glanced at the empty passenger seat, well more like looks-empty-but-really-isn't passenger seat and since that was too long, empty was going to work just fine. He kind of wished Sam would hit him with his notepad or tap on the window, doing _something_ to make himself known or whatever. He hated this driving in silence thing. It sucked. Even on their normal days when it was just the two of them riding down some backroad, it was quite, sure, but they were both _there_. He could see Sam, could watch him out of the corner of his eye, could he his breathing, letting Dean know he was alive and well and content. The only memories of that passenger seat being empty was when Sam was _gone_; when he'd left Dean, ditched him for countless reasons on countless times, or when he was _gone_ gone like when he'd been dead and so cold and void of life, pale and sickly and just _gone_. They weren't exactly happy memories and Dean didn't like how similar it was to all those times without his brother.

Grunting, Dean reached forward and turned on the radio, hoping it would help clear his mind.

Sam was bored, and coming from someone who wasn't easily bored, he found this to be a little disconcerting. Usually he enjoyed quite car rides, but this time was different. Whenever the car got too quite, Dean would always start talking about nothing and everything all at the same time. He'd turn up his music and sing along, not very good and very off key, but the noise, the voice of _Dean_ always made he feel good and safe. It wasn't like that now, where Dean just stayed quite and kept shooting concerned and pained glances his way. It was pretty uncomfortable.

Talking to Bobby had bought him some momentary relief, but it still just wasn't the same as talking to Dean.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

It took some time, but eventually the both of them were hungry, sore, tired, and crabby. Dean had suggested they stop for the night, get a nice meal, maybe have a few drinks, head off to bed, and start up again in a few hours or so. Sam agreed vehemently, deciding if he had to sit in the car for another second in absolute silence he might just kill himself.

They parker at diner named "_Petey's_", decorated with insanely bright red booths, stools, and tables and light orange walls. The term "eye-sore" would be an understatement.

"Can I start you off with anything to drink?" Their waitress asked, her voice higher than what had to be normal and way to cheerful for someone working the night shift at a restaurant in the middle of nowhere.

"Coffee, black." Dean immediately replied.

She looked at Sam expectantly, "Um, just some water for me, please." Dean felt a tiny spark of jealousy. He, Sam's older brother who'd all but raised the friggin' kid, couldn't understand a single thing Sam was saying or see anything he was doing, but this stranger was able to do that just fine. Childish as it may be, Dean didn't find the situation very fair; and don't even bother telling him how "life isn't fair" because he was _too_ aware of just how unfair life could be. Life was friggin' bitch that had taken his brother from on countless accounts. Yeah, he knew life sucked, he was living proof of that, but the one good thing he'd always had -had always been able to rely on- was his baby brother. Sam had some rough patches, sure, but he'd done everything in his power and than some to receive his redemption. Sam hadn't been the one giving up when things looked like they'd never be good again, he was doing the opposite and was putting all of his faith and trust into Dean and God and even himself, praying he could make things right again. Life sucked, but it sucked a little less when there was an awesome brother at your side.

But now he didn't even really have that. Once again his brother was taken from him, differently and -he had to admit- really creatively, but still taken. It was like a sort of just-out-of-reach thing going on.

"So what'd Bobby have to say?" He asked conversationally. Give him a break, he hadn't been able to talk to Sam when he was driving.

**Said he'd look into the guy**

Dean gave Sam a look, a curiously concerned look, "Good. Say, how you holdin' up, Sam?" He was a little worried and could you really blame him? Sam was always, _always_ getting into some sort of trouble. Exhibit A was sitting right across from him, Mr. Invisible Curse. He shook his head, only Sam.

**I'm ****fine****, Dean. Really. **And he was fine. He didn't feel like he was loosing a lung, didn't feel like he was about to throw up knives. He was _fine_.

"Alrighty, here's your coffee and your water. You gentlemen ready to order?" Dean cringed, he didn't even know it was humanly possible to get you voice that high.

"I'll take a bacon cheeseburger, thanks."

"And for you sweetheart?" She asked, turning to Sam. Dean barely held back a bark of laughter, of course the 19 year old waitress was calling his 7 foot brother "sweetheart". He felt Sam kick him from underneath the table and fought even harder to keep himself from laughing, although failing to keep the giant grin off his face.

"Alrighty, I'll be back with your food." She smiled and was off.

Once she was out of earshot, Dean didn't bother holding back his laughter, chuckling at his brother's misfortune. "Hear that, _sweetheart_? Food'll be ready soon." He grinned.

Sam hit him with his notepad, **That's just creepy when you say it** Dean half smiled, realizing that, yeah, it sound creepy coming from him. Then laughed one more time, for good measure.

It was completely by accident when they both ended up eaves dropping on a pair on the other end of the room; not that it was hard given that the diner was almost totally empty, not surprising considering the time, though.

"Ah'm tellin' ya', Lee, that ain't no wolf in them there woods, it's one o' them serial murderers. They say all the hearts was missin' from the bodies." A gruff old man was telling a young woman.

Sam snapped his head to Dean, his brother instinctively doing the same thing at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah. I heard ya' the first time, Robert. You always expect the worse. 'Member that time that little raccoon was getting into the garbages? You thought it was an escaped mental institute patient. Just calm down a little, the boys'll have that thing captured and dead in no time." The woman replied, nursing a beer.

Back at their own table, Dean groaned, "You've gotta be _kidding_ me! Don't we have enough to deal with?"

"If it's a werewolf, than tonight's the last night it can be caught and the night's already half over." Damn, still mute, Sam thought, scribbling down on his paper. **Tonight's the last night of the full moon**

Dean groaned again at the sight of his little brother's words, "God damn it! Why the hell wasn't there a Hunter here already?" He cursed, throwing some cash on the table. Spotting there waitress, he called out, " 'Scuse me, miss, can we get our food to go?" She nodded, smiling like there wasn't a care in the world. Lucky bitch.

"I'm going to go see what the hell is going on." He grumbled, striding over to the pair they'd over-heard. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear you talking about a murderer?" He asked smoothly, but briskly.

"Bah. That's just Robert, it's nothin' sugah." The woman brushed off, throwing her dark hair over shoulder.

"Well than what is it? My brother and I are just passin' through and it'd be much appreciated if we knew what we were getting into."

"Ah. It's just a few wolf attacks in the town neighboring here." Her fingers pointing down the way him and Sam had just come. Great, so now not only were they hunting a werewolf with a time limit, but also going backwards, not forwards. Figures. "Stay inside and you'll be safe."

"Alright, thanks."

"Any time," He heard her call, "Look what ya've done, now, Robert, boy looked scared outta his mind. Why cantchya just-"

"Alright, Sam. It's in the town we just drove through. Let's go."

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

Tense. It could be the word used to describe how the Winchester brothers were reacting to their current could barely talk to each other, they were tired, they were stressed, on the clock, and hungry. Tempers had officially risen.

They didn't have much to go on. The only thing they were (pretty) sure of was that it was a werewolf. Deaths didn't start happening until three days ago, first day of the full moon. They had no clue who it was or who it might be after specifically, if anybody. And they weren't even certain if it was one or more. What they did know was that the murders took place in the forest outside the local bar.

"So, this isn't our greatest Hunt-"

"Understatement." Sam grumbled, scowling.

"-But as long as we keep our cool and stay alert, we'll be fine."

They were stumbling around the wooded area, straining their ears for any sign of the werewolf, hardly daring to breathe. Around them the cool night air turned their shallow breaths into little puffs, above them the moon shined bright and full.

_Snap_.

Both Hunters stopped abruptly, adrenaline coursing through their veins, listening hard, waiting for the inevitable attack.

Time seemed to freeze around them the deafening silence threatening to crush them, drown them in their fears.

It attacked from behind.

Sam was tackled to the ground, air was forced from his lungs and he gasped desperately, trying in vain to take in the much needed air.

Dean called his brother's name, aiming his gun at the bastard who'd dared to touch his baby brother. That's when things got worse, he'd had the perfect shot, when he suddenly found himself airborne.

There were two of them.

Barely ten feet away, Sam had managed to get out from under the beast and was firing shot after shot at the monster, missing the heart, but still covering the thing with bullet holes. Next to him, Dean was doing the exact same thing with the other one, trying desperately to get a shot to the heart.

His werewolf clawed at him, catching his face and Sam hissed in pain, adrenaline was helping him ignore if for now, but later on it was going to be a bitch.

"Damn it!" Dean screamed, and Sam briefly glanced over, not daring to look away for more than a second, to see the second werewolf running through the trees in retreat. "Sam, I gotta go after it. You got this?"

Knowing his brother wouldn't hear him even if he did say something, Sam shot at the leftover werewolf, still trying for the heart.

Without another word, his brother was gone. Sam was terrified, his brother could be killed in the middle of this forest, hunting some stupid werewolf, and all alone. He pushed the thoughts aside, he couldn't stand to loose focus or else [he'd] be the one dying in the middle of this stupid forest. Besides, his brother was the best Hunter he knew, he could handle a single, wounded werewolf on his own.

The wolf snarled, blood and saliva dripping through its jaws. Sam caught sight of its eyes, cold and deadly, and knew, without a doubt, he wasn't the first Hunter this wolf had come across. It was probably safe to say, all previous attempts of killing the beast had failed on a scale of epic proportions.

The wolf attacked at the same he did, claws digging in deep and fierce into his chest while Sam was finally able to shoot him in the heart.

The beast fell. Dead.

Sam mentally congratulated himself...until he realized how much blood he was loosing.

"Sh-shit." He suddenly felt very ill. "D-Dean...h'lp." The edges around his sight started fading. Dizziness washed over him, he felt his eyes roll up into the back of his head, his last thoughts of wondering where his brother was were chased off by blissful darkness.

**(-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_- _)**

**Okie dokie, thanks to that one person who reviewed. Means a lot to me! :) **

**Just a future warning, I've been thinking about changing my Summary. I kind of just randomly typed it up in a spurr of the moment type of deal-io, so I want ta fix it up. **

**Reviews would still be wonderful to have. They'd be great, actually. I'm a little depressed by the lack of love. Makes me feel like I'm doin somethin wrong and nobody'll tell me. So...yeah.**

**Alright, you all have a pleasant day! :)**


End file.
